


Seven

by kcthekat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hogwarts Mystery - Freeform, One Shot, Quidditch, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25026244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcthekat/pseuds/kcthekat
Summary: After a devastating Quidditch Cup loss, Skye Parkin and Orion Amari deal with it in their own ways. Also Murphy is there.
Relationships: MC/Murphy McNully, Murphy McNully/MC, Orion Amari/Skye Parkin, Orion/Skye, Skye Parkin/Orion Amari, Skye/Orion
Comments: 13
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: I can't believe there are so few Orion/Skye stories on this website. Where are my fellow Hogwarts Mystery players at? Well, when you don't see what you want on the shelf…

* * *

The far-off roar of the Quidditch crowd faded until it became a distant hum. Inside the Slytherin locker room, there was only a heavy, numb silence.

Orion Amari faced his team. "Today's loss was regrettable," he admitted. "You all worked very hard to reach this point. The Quidditch Cup was, no doubt, important to all of you, as it was to me. Even so, I feel nothing but pride for our team. We as Quidditch players achieved great harmony today."

In the back of the room, Skye Parkin bristled. Estella Prewitt, the newest team Chaser, wrapped an arm around the other girl's shoulders. Orion's dark eyes flickered over her for a second before returning to the front of the group.

"I urge you all to remember," he told them firmly, "that accomplishments and losses are committed together, as a team, in equal parts by all involved. No victory or defeat is ever the work of one person. We are a unified entity, bound by ties of – "

Skye Parkin jumped up and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Estella, who was still sitting in the back, winced. Nearby, Murphy McNully frowned at his hands in his lap. Orion watched Skye go, and then he turned back to the group with the smallest of sighs.

"I would be apart of no other team in the world," he finished softly.

After that, the group dispersed and headed to the showers. Outside, the cheers of the other three houses grew in intensity. It was Ravenclaw that had beat them – damn that Rath and her piledriver arm – but Gryffindor and Hufflepuff rejoiced, too.

To no one's surprise, they all loved to see Slytherin lose.

Once the post-match meeting was concluded, Orion took his time changing out of his Quidditch clothes and washing off. After that, he dressed once more in his brown robes and long, crystal-laced necklaces, and then he picked up his things and walked with Murphy back up to the castle. He hadn't seen Skye or Estella, although Murphy mentioned he'd spotted them leaving a few minutes before.

"They'll be fine," Murphy promised. "There's a 4% chance they won't even remember this tomorrow."

"That is a rather low number," observed Orion mildly.

"It is, yeah," admitted Murphy, scratching his head. "It's really only accounting for sudden amnesia or death."

"Neither of which I would wish on our friends."

"Of course, of course. It's just – you know, there's always a chance."

Orion and Murphy made their way into the castle, vehemently ignoring a group of cheering Gryffindors who jeered at them. It had been a particularly brutal match, with quite a few injuries. Orion was nursing an ache in his ribs that would take time to heal, and pretty much everyone had gotten knocked around a bit.

Together, he and Murphy veered into the Great Hall. Murphy mentioned he wasn't looking forward to more taunting and evil looks, but Orion was unphased. Plenty of things in life had hurt him, but a look was never one of them.

Placidly, he took his seat at the Slytherin table, which was only occupied sparsely. He did not see any of the other Quidditch players. Murphy sat across from him and began fixing a sandwich.

Nearly ten minutes later, two figures appeared nearby.

"Skye! Estella!" exclaimed Murphy, looking up. His brows furrowed instantly. "Bloody hell, what happened?"

Skye was walking crookedly and favoring one side. She also had a crutch in her left hand, but she seemed keener on swatting it at people than using it to carry her weight. Estella helped her into her seat, and Skye waved her off.

"Geroff, Estella! I'm fine!"

"You do not appear to be fine," remarked Orion, frowning. "Were you injured during the match?"

"She was injured before the match," Estella answered, cutting her eyes at Skye. "She just didn't bloody tell anyone. And then she went and took a bludger to the back. Twice."

Skye took a seat next to Murphy and avoided looking at Orion, whose brown eyes grew concerned. Estella sat across from Skye. Her red hair was wet and limp from the showers, and she had several small cuts along her jaw. Skye, likewise, looked battered and bruised.

"Pomfrey fixed me up a bit," muttered Skye. "But it's gonna take a few days to heal fully. Hurts like a bitch." She spooned some vegetables onto her plate and then stabbed them aggressively with her fork.

"You should not have played while injured," Orion told her quietly.

"Yeah?" questioned Skye sharply. "Think that's why I missed that final goal? Bloody ruined the match? Lost it for all of us?"

"Skye," started Estella warily.

"As I stated during our meeting - " Orion began, but Skye slammed her fist down on the table.

"Don't try to say it wasn't my fault, Orion! I bloody fouled up! You know I did!"

"I do not blame you," Orion told her firmly.

Skye scowled loudly. "Yeah, right, well, if you'd done what I did, I would've blamed you."

Estella quickly interjected. "Thank you for your help this year, Orion. You're a great captain." She paused and looked at Skye pointedly. "Isn't he, Skye?"

"Oh, yeah," Skye said around a mouthful of food. "A solid seven."

Orion smiled. "Seven is a wonderful number, and one I wholeheartedly accept. It is, after all, a very important number in magical theory and religions all across the world."

"None of which Skye has any idea about," muttered Murphy to Estella, and they both snickered.

After a moment, Estella's expression grew sad again, and she buried her face in her hands. Murphy opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped when a shadow fell over them. The four Slytherins looked up to see the immense form of Erica Rath, the Ravenclaw Beater.

As usual, she said nothing at first, instead looming over them like a great, hulking blonde statue. There was an uncomfortable pause.

"Can we help you?" asked Orion kindly.

Rath shifted her gaze to him. "No," she said flatly. "I only wanted to tell you all that your loss today was well-deserved. Your silly rumors and ridiculous scare-tactics have no place in Quidditch."

Estella leaned forward. "Rath, we tried to talk to you and apologize countless times for the mix-up – "

"I don't want your apologies," Rath said flatly, glaring heatedly in Estella's direction. "You and your words mean nothing to me."

"Are you really just here to be rude?" spoke up Murphy. "Because if so, you're welcome to move on. You won. Go and celebrate."

"Yes," agreed Orion, with just a hint of tension to his voice. "You are disturbing our auras. We would like for you to leave, please."

Rath snorted. "You don't want me around? Pity. What does it take to be a part of your group anyway? Do you have to be … insane?" She looked at Estella. "Orphaned?" Her eyes flickered to Orion. "Or just crippled?" Her gaze fell over Skye and Murphy both. Murphy's eyes widened with shock.

"What?" taunted Rath, looking at Murphy. "Is that a bad word? Impartial commentator my arse, calling for a penalty on me."

"You deserved that penalty," said Murphy lowly, hands tight on the table. "And a dozen more."

"I swear to Merlin, Rath," hissed Skye, leaning forward, "you better get the hell out of here before I take that Beater's bat and shove it straight up your – "

"Is there a problem here?"

They all shifted to look at Snape. Rath twisted her lips.

"No, Professor."

"Good," he said flatly. "Miss Rath, in case you were curious, the Ravenclaw table is the one with the Ravenclaws sitting at it. I suggest you go there now."

"Yes, Professor."

With one last venomous look, Rath left the sullen Slytherin table behind and joined the raucous Ravenclaws. Snape observed his battered Quidditch team, curled his lip, and then left. Estella deflated in her seat, and Orion reached up, putting a hand on her shoulder. The group sat in devastated silence for a moment.

"This is bloody bollocks!" exclaimed Skye suddenly, jabbing the wooden table with her fork. "Estella, I've got a bottle of firewhiskey hidden in my trunk. I say we get pissed. What about you?"

Estella sighed heavily. "Might as well," she said sadly.

"Alcohol is never the answer, Skye," Orion informed her.

"Probably not," Skye agreed, "but it does make you forget the question. Come on, Stella."

Together, the girls got up and left the table. Orion and Murphy remained behind. For a moment, nothing was said. And then -

"There is a 99.99% chance that Rath is a total bitch."

"That is inappropriate, Murphy."

"I stand by my statement."

* * *

Hours later, Orion sat cross-legged next to his bed and fought to clear his mind. He was having a great deal of trouble concentrating, despite being alone in the room. Irritation bubbled under his skin, but he worked hard to quell it.

The door to the dormitory swung open. "Orion!"

The Quidditch Captain cracked open an eye. "Yes?"

Murphy appeared in front of him. "Sorry, I know you're doing your – trance, thingy – "

"Meditation."

"Yeah, that. But hey look, curfew is in fifteen minutes, and no one can find Skye and Estella."

Orion lowered his hands from their position and sighed. "I assume they are somewhere with their alcohol."

"Yeah, probably. Look, Snape's already on the bloody warpath today after that match. If he finds them drunk, they'll be in for it. And you know he'll be lurking around the Common Room close to curfew. We've got to find them."

"Very well." Orion stood and left with Murphy. Together, they checked all of the girls' usual haunts outside of the Quidditch pitch – the library (Estella's favorite), the owlery (Skye's favorite), and then a few other nooks and crannies, like the artefact room and that little alcove on the outer edge of the Clocktower Courtyard.

At last, someone mentioned seeing them in the Astronomy Tower, so they hurried up that way.

"… and the fifth thing I would do if I was – if I was headmaster – mistress, whatever – "

Skye was talking very loudly even though Estella was right next to her.

" – I would … I would ban blonde hair. Across the board. Not a single – strand of … it in my sight, I swear - "

Estella burst into giggles.

"That seems a little rude," observed Murphy wryly.

Orion looked down at Skye and Estella and shook his head. Both girls were curled up on the floor next to an open window, and neither of them seemed capable of blinking both eyes at the same time. An empty bottle of top-shelf firewhiskey sat off the side.

"Shut up, Murphy!" exclaimed Skye, pointing a finger in the wrong direction. "What do – what do you know about it…"

Murphy exchanged looks with Orion.

"I think – I think he means… because he's blonde," started Estella with a hiccup.

"He's not – his hair is yellow…"

"Thas' blonde, Skye…"

"No, it's – well, yeah, it is, I guess…"

Clearly, they were sloshed, and Orion briefly closed his eyes and rubbed at them with his fingers. Murphy smirked.

"Well, at least they're not sad anymore," he noted.

"I was never sad!" exclaimed Skye suddenly, making everyone jump. "I – I do not feel sad, I am – I am fire incarnate, I am a blazing wind of – of fire - …. And I will – burn everything. I am a … a dragon." She paused. "A Quidditch dragon."

"You would make – " said Estella, " – Skye, listen to me – listen, listen, - you would – you are the best dragon. Ever."

"Thank you, Estella." Skye held Estella's hands in hers. "Thank you. That – that means a lot, I am – I would never eat you. Or burn you."

"Merlin's beard," muttered Murphy.

"Come on, now, we have to get back to the dormitory," cut in Orion at last, hurrying to them. "Skye, please stand. Professor Snape will be around soon – "

"No, no! I don't want to go back to the dorm!"

"You must, Skye – "

"Murphy," groaned Estella, crawling over to him and putting her head in his lap. "Today was horrible."

"Yes, I know." He cautiously patted her head.

"You – you're great, though."

"I agree, thank you."

" _Why did you make me try out for Quidditch_?" shrieked Estella out of nowhere, and then she started crying. Murphy flapped his arms and looked at Orion helplessly.

"Bloody hell, Orion! What do we do?"

Orion sighed. "I told them, alcohol helps nothing – " He looked up. "Skye, no!"

"I HATE THIS BLOODY SHITE!" screamed Skye just before hurling her walking crutch out of the window. Orion rushed to catch it, but he was too late, and Skye staggered in her spot before pointing at the window. "Take that, you stupid – stick thing! Crutches are for quitters!"

Orion narrowed his eyes at her. "Skye," he said emphatically, and he heard Murphy snicker behind him, "you needed that to help you walk."

"No, you didn't!" Skye argued back, and then she looked confused. "Wait – "

"Oh, bloody hell," said Murphy, looking down. Estella was asleep with her head in his lap. Footsteps echoed down the corridor, and Murphy quickly checked his watch. "Orion, we've got THREE minutes to get down to the dungeons!"

Skye stumbled and fell, and Orion jerked reflexively, catching her around her middle. "Bloody – room is spinning," she slurred.

Murphy grimaced. "If she vomits, I am leaving. Not just this room, but the entire school."

Orion tugged Skye closer. "Can you walk?" he asked, feeling a trickle of desperation. "We need to get back to Slytherin before Snape comes."

"Fuck Snape!" howled Skye, and then she promptly collapsed, leaving Orion to catch all of her weight. Murphy groaned.

"Oh, bloody hell, I just know he heard that," Murphy wailed. "I bet he's crashing through stone walls as we speak, ready to murder us – "

"Can you handle Estella?" asked Orion quickly, and Murphy looked incredulously at his lap.

"Er – "

Without waiting further for an answer, Orion shifted and hauled Skye up into his arms. Her head rolled limply to the side, face pressed into the front of his robes. Mostly asleep, she grumbled something incoherent and loosely gripped his necklaces.

"Go now," Orion ordered as the footsteps approached closer. Then, with Skye tucked into his arms, he hurried away from the footsteps and ducked into some shadows. Murphy flailed and then pulled out his wand, casting a quick feather-light spell on Estella before he scooped her up into his lap and rushed away in the opposite direction.

The footsteps passed, and Orion exhaled. After peeking down the corridor, he walked out in rushed steps with Skye. Her eyes opened blearily, and she brushed her hands along his necklaces.

"Pretty," she mumbled.

Orion glanced down at her quickly. "Thank you, Skye. I have tried to tell you about the power of crystals before. You do not often listen." He moved quickly down a flight of stairs and shifted Skye's weight in his arms. She wasn't particularly heavy, but he didn't normally carry people, either. He made a mental note to exercise more.

Skye reached up and limply traced the long leather cord around his neck. Her curled fingertips brushed his neck, soft and cool. It was a bit distracting – not to mention odd – but he didn't have a free hand to stop her. Her hand traveled higher and brushed his chin.

"You have more beard than anyone else in your year," she noted sluggishly.

"I do, yes," he agreed, a little amused.

"Does Murphy – have a beard?"

Orion assumed she was asking if Murphy shaved, since he obviously didn't have a beard, so Orion said, "I do not believe so, no." Orion didn't really have a beard, either, but he certainly had more facial hair than most his age.

Suddenly, the voices of McGonagall and Flitwick floated in his direction, and Orion stumbled to a halt before ducking into an empty classroom. They hadn't seen him, but they were still standing there, talking about this and that, so Orion had no choice but to wait.

With a sigh, he slid against the wall until he came to the ground. "We will wait here a moment," he told Skye, opening his arms so she could shift away. Instead, she turned into him and put her face in his neck.

"Mmkay."

Orion stiffened.

"Er, Skye – "

"You know what?" asked Skye suddenly, pulling back to look at him but not removing her body from his. Orion shifted and tried to angle himself away from her, but she was between his legs, and he didn't want to physically move her on account of her injury.

"What?" he asked much more mildly than he felt. This was a very weird day.

"You – you aren't a seven, Orion."

"I was perfectly satisfied with being a seven, Skye. There is no need to inflate your assessment of me."

"No, no. No. You – you are more than seven." Skye prodded him in the chest. "You are – a good captain, good – better than seven. More like – nine." She paused. "I would not be a good captain." She fell against him again, and Orion's eyes widened as she curled right up to his torso. Her knees moved up, and she turned into him. Orion made an involuntary noise and willed his body to act appropriately. This was the most physical contact he had shared with anyone since he and Bean crashed into the same goal post.

"I think you would… be fine for the job," Orion told her, before clearing his throat. He settled his hands at his own sides so he wasn't touching her. "A captain is much more than leadership. You would need to exercise a great deal of patience, but otherwise…"

"I lost the match for us today."

She wasn't yelling or ranting anymore. Orion frowned and shifted to look down at her face, which was ghostly white under the bare illumination of moonlight streaming in through the classroom window. Her eyes, usually so wide and bright, had grown terribly sad.

"I meant what I said after the match," Orion told her softly. "It was not your fault. We win and lose together."

"But – but I missed the goal, Orion…"

"I have missed many goals, as has Estella. There is no shame in what you did today."

Skye sniffled, and Orion's eyes widened. In all their years playing Quidditch together, he had never seen Skye cry before, not even at her worst. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, and she whimpered, her temple falling against his chest.

"But I do… feel shamed," she whispered. "If I can't – " she hiccuped, " – if I can't… play Quidditch, what can I do? Nothing. I'm useless. Quidditch is all I am."

"That is not true," Orion told her firmly, shifting to meet her gaze. His hand twitched with the effort it took to stay still. "Your dedication to Quidditch is admirable, but it is far from your only value. You should not think that way. Your spirit is indomitable. Your worth is boundless. And you have nothing to fear from failure. You are you, regardless of your scores in Quidditch."

Skye looked up, her eyes wide and round. "Really?"

"Of course," murmured Orion. He smiled gently. "I am grateful to know you, Skye."

"Even though we … argue all the time… and stuff?"

"I prefer to think of them more as intense ideological exchanges, but yes. Despite all that."

Skye bit her lip and a tear trickled down her cheek. "But you wanted to win, too. You like winning, even though you don't want to admit it." She clutched the front of his robes. Orion reached up and put his hand over hers.

"If you promise never to tell," he whispered with a small smile, "I will admit only to you that yes, I do like winning. Victory is an enjoyable experience." He tilted his head. "But experiencing victory without the people I care for would be meaningless. And so, if you are in the throes of defeat, then so must I be. For otherwise, I would not be with you."

Was he still talking about the team? It had certainly started that way in his head, but with every word, he became more and more focused on the expectant, eager face in front of him.

Skye swallowed. "I'm sorry Rath called you 'orphaned," she murmured very softly.

Orion's eyes flickered. "It is not an insult to say what is true. I am orphaned. I am not ashamed."

"It was still rude to say."

"I agree. But it did not hurt me."

"I wanted to punch her. I didn't, though."

"Yes, that was for the best."

"Are you proud of me?"

Orion's lips quirked. "Yes, Skye. Always."

Skye paused, and then she moved up her arms, slipping them around Orion's neck. Orion's lips parted in surprise as she sank against him once more, her face buried in the front of his robes.

"Can we just stay here?" she mumbled.

Orion cautiously drew his arms around her, though he kept them loose and made certain not to put his hands anywhere appropriate. "It would be unwise," he whispered back. It did feel rather nice there, though. The classroom was cold, and the floor was hard, but he had been in worse places with much less agreeable company. When he dropped his head, his cheek pressed to the crown of Skye's black hair.

"Then just leave me," murmured Skye. "Go back to the dormitory."

Orion's eyes shifted down to his own hands, which twitched at the folds of Skye's robes. "I will not leave you here alone."

"It's just a bloody…" she yawned, "… classroom… I'll be fine."

Orion knew that was true. After all, she would probably wake up in a few hours, far more sober than before, and make her way back to the dungeons without an issue. Even so, he knew he couldn't just leave her there. And taking her back to the dormitory seemed like an impossibly long trip, never mind the fact that he couldn't take her up to her room, what with the stairs and their overly suspicious slide mechanics being what they were. He also didn't think Skye's roommates would help out. She wasn't in Estella's year, and there were only two other girls in her dormitory, neither of whom were overly fond of her. Skye tended to rub people the wrong way sometimes.

But, despite all their rows, Orion truly did appreciate her. She was very much her own person, and her passion was something to be admired. He looked down at her, and he saw that, once more, she was snuggled against his chest. She would have never done such a thing if she'd been coherent. Orion felt a little guilty that he was holding her now, knowing she was in such a state.

Still, it wasn't as if he could get her anywhere else, and she was determined to hold on to him. Finally, Orion picked her up again and stood, with great effort, so he could walk her over to a soft cushioned bench near a window. There, he laid her against the cushions and then pulled off his outer robe, which he draped over her. As he moved to pull away, Skye grabbed his arm. Her eyes were still close, but even so, she continued to mumble.

"Sleep… next to me."

Orion inhaled sharply, and then he gently extracted her fingers from his arm. "No, Skye. You do not want that. Go to sleep."

"I do… I do want it…"

Orion placed her hand on the cushion. "I will be right here next to you on the floor."

"Please, Orion…" She opened her eyes, but the stare was vacant. She was fading fast. "I want you… I want you to hold me. Please."

Orion balked. After a few seconds, he sat on the very edge of the cushioned bench. "Close your eyes and count to ten," he told her. "When you finish, I'll lie down with you."

"You promise?" she mumbled.

"Yes, I promise."

Skye closed her eyes. "One… two…"

And then she was sleep. Orion's lips quirked sadly. He adjusted the cloak over her again.

Skye remained blissfully asleep, thank Merlin, although her fingers moved and gripped his cloak. Orion hesitantly reached out and brushed back a black braid away from her face. Her energy radiated before his eyes in an electric green pulse. It was a magnificent sight to behold. For a while, he simply admired her.

After that, he took a seat on the cold stone floor next to her and crossed his legs.

Now seemed as good a time as any to meditate. He had a lot to ruminate on.


	2. Chapter 2

Author’s Note: Thanks for the reviews on this little ficlet! Some folks were asking about Estella and Murphy, and I needed a nice mental break, so here you go…

***

Murphy had no idea where Orion was.

They’d split up back at the tower, and now Murphy was just strolling alone with a limp, incapacitated Estella Prewitt in his lap like it was nothing. To make matters worse, each time Murphy stopped abruptly to peek around a corner, Estella went tumbling onto the floor like a lifeless rag-doll.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, gathering her up from the cold stone floor for the third time. He tucked her back into his lap again with a wince. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered to her frantically, even though she was still passed out and possibly even unconscious at this point. “I can’t move and hold you at the same bloody time! Blame Orion!”

Still cursing, Murphy hurried into a shadowed area when he heard the tell-tale swoosh of Snape’s pitch-black cloak, which he was absolutely certain grew darker each time Snape fed on the soul of a newborn baby. If Snape caught him with Estella, he might just throw the unconscious girl at him and flee for his life. He wasn’t a Slytherin for nothing, after all. Self-preservation was a key skill.

Thankfully, the Slytherin Head of House did not see him tucked away, and instead, he moved down the corridor and disappeared around a corner. Murphy exhaled in relief and then moved on once more. At last, he arrived at the Slytherin Common Room and went inside.

There was only one person still remaining in the Common Room, and that was Alisdair Rosier, Felix’s younger brother. He was sitting in a chair with a pair of dice in his hand, eyes on a board of unmoving game pieces in front of him. When Murphy entered with Estella, Rosier looked up and raised a brow.

“What’ve you got there, McNully?” he asked casually, eyes turning back to his game board.

Murphy moved one arm around Estella and curled her a little closer. Rosier looked indifferent, but a protective instinct manifested in his chest anyway. “It’s Estella. She’s just tired after the match today.”

Rosier toyed with the dice in his hands. “Looks like you drugged and kidnapped her.”

“Yes, because I am known for doing things like that.”

Rosier shrugged.

Sighing, Murphy turned away from Rosier and peered around the Common Room. Well, what to do now? “Have you seen Rowan Khana?” Murphy asked Rosier, and the other wizard shrugged again.

“I don’t pay attention to that little dork.”

“What about Orion and Skye? Seen them?”

“Nope.”

“Damn it.” He thought hard. “What about Merula? Is she here?”

Rosier’s eyes flickered in Murphy’s direction. “Everyone’s is in their dormitories,” he said flatly. “Just leave her here in the Common Room.”

Murphy’s grip grew tighter. “I can’t do that. What if Snape sees her?”

“And what is he going to do, exactly?”

Murphy couldn’t think of an answer to that, but he also knew without a doubt that he was not going to leave Estella unattended in the Common Room with Rosier and anyone else lurking about, being shifty like they were.

“Well, I’ll just wait.”

Rosier gave him an unimpressed look. After about twenty minutes, he gathered up his game, gave Murphy one last smirk, and then walked up the stairs to the dormitories.

An hour passed.

Orion didn’t show up, and neither did Skye or anyone else who could possibly help them. Murphy weighed his options. There was no one in the Common Room… so maybe he could –

No. Not with untrustworthy blokes like Gerald Flint mucking about, or what about that mentalist Ismelda? If she caught Estella in such a state, there was no telling what she’d do. So, with a gritted determination, Murphy pulled Estella up against him again and went to the stairs of his own dormitory. There, he tapped his wand on his wheelchair and then on the bannister, and he let himself get pulled up the steps by the spell that had been placed there when he’d started at Hogwarts. It lifted him up at a steady pace before depositing him and Estella on his landing. There, he quickly pulled his cloak over her and hurried to his own dormitory.

His heart pounding, Murphy opened the door a smidge and peered inside.

He was lucky. In his dormitory, there were only three sixth-year Slytherin boys: himself, Orion, and Matthias Zabini, a solitary fellow with a disdain for everyone that was prodigious even for a Slytherin. When Murphy looked inside, though, he found it empty.

“Whew.” He went in and closed the door behind him. Then, after making a quick assessment of the room, he pulled Estella out of his lap and lifted her up into his own bed. Estella grumbled and shifted in the bed before spreading out her limbs and pushing her face into his pillow. Murphy snickered a little to himself.

“Graceful, Estella,” he told her. “Remind me to thank you tomorrow for drooling all over my things.”

He paused, considering what to do next. He certainly wasn’t going to undress her, but he did consider taking off her shoes. After a few seconds deliberation, he decided to leave them on her. They weren’t hurting anything. Not much worried about waking her, Murphy pulled back the bed covers and pulled them over her. As expected, Estella had no response to this.

“I would appreciate it so much if you didn’t throw up in my bed,” he told the sleeping witch. “I mean, I’d just get the house-elves to wash it, but really. That memory would haunt me forever.” He tugged the sheets up to her shoulders and touched her head briefly. Then he pulled back his hand, looked around, and reached for the canopy.

“Guess I’ll see you in the morning,” he murmured softly, and then he tugged the canopy closed all the way around the bed.

Satisfied that Estella was secure, Murphy now wondered what to do with himself. His gaze landed on Orion’s bed. Well, he wasn’t sure when Orion was coming back, so he may as well take advantage. He took his pajamas from the stand next to his bed and then went over to Orion’s, where he pulled himself up and changed clothes. Then he laid down and cast a quick _tempus_ spell.

It was 10:30 PM, not all that late. It was a Saturday, too, so there was a good possibility that neither Orion nor Zabini would be returning at all. Zabini was known for staying out all night. For someone who was not overly fond of other people, Zabini certainly spent a lot of time out of the dormitory.

Murphy’s eyes shifted to his own bed, where Estella slept. His lips quirked in a little smile.

After that, he laid his head back and fell asleep. The doze, however, must have been light, because he woke up just a few hours later to the sound of rustling sheets. Briefly confused, Murphy looked around the dim lighting of the dormitory and tried to figure out why he was angled away from the door.

Oh, right. Because he was in Orion’s bed.

“Orion?” he muttered, sitting up, but it was Estella he spotted.

“Bloody hell,” she groaned, and Murphy’s heart spiked when he saw her standing next to his bed holding her head. “Where the hell am I?”

“Estella!” Murphy shifted to face her, quickly growing panicked.

“Murphy?” she exclaimed, and he shushed her. “Oh, Merlin’s beard. I feel like something the kneazle dragged in! Why are you in my dormitory? You’re going to get in – “ She looked around and understanding registered. “Oh, bloody hell.”

“Okay, so I know this looks bad – “

“Bloody hell, Murphy!” she whispered frantically, wincing at the sound of her own voice. “Why am I in the boys’ dormitory?”

Murphy scooted to the edge of the bed and fell clumsily into his chair. “Listen, listen – you were drunk, we ran away, I couldn’t get you to your dorm, Rowan Khana is a bloody ghost, I didn’t want Snape to cut me up into little pieces and make into a Murphy-potion, there were just - quite a lot of factors – “ 

“So you put me in _here_?” she shrieked.

Murphy flapped his arms. “It – wasn’t my best idea, I admit, but – “

Footsteps approached from the stairs. Murphy and Estella froze. “In the bed!” hissed Murphy. “Hurry, hurry!”

Estella turned and fled to Murphy’s bed, jumping into it and yanking the canopy shut just as Matthias Zabini entered the room, haughty express pinched suspiciously. He stopped at the door when he saw Murphy, who had assumed an unconvincingly casual pose next to his bed.

“What was that noise?” asked Zabini tonelessly.

“Noise?” questioned Murphy lightly. “Mm, no idea.”

“Really.”

“Yes, really. That is why I said it.”

Zabini entered the room. “I thought I heard a girl’s voice in here.”

“Don’t be silly. Why would there be a girl in here?”

Zabini smirked and walked next to his bed. “That’s true. After all, what would _you_ do with a girl anyway?”

Murphy’s expression darkened.

“Look on the bright side, McNully,” went on Zabini as he crossed the room to his own bed, “at least you never have to worry about contraceptive potions.” He chuckled and started to change clothes. Murphy felt his face grow red, but he managed a tight smile.

“Aren’t you the funny one,” he said dryly, and all the while he couldn’t help but think of Estella sitting in his bed, listening to every word. Zabini made a noncommittal noise in response, and then he pulled back his own canopy and got into bed. He paused and looked back when Murphy stayed where he was.

“Aren’t you going to bed?” asked Zabini curiously. “Or are you just going to sit there in your pajamas and do nothing?”

Murphy hesitated. “I…”

Zabini gave him a skeptical look, and Murphy cleared his throat. “Of course I’m going to bed.” Zabini only stared in response, so Murphy turned slowly and went to his own bed. After a pause, he cleared his throat again – loudly – and then he pulled back his canopy just enough to see his pillows. Then he hopped up into the bed and pulled the canopy closed again.

And there was Estella, sitting on the edge of his covers like a frightened dog in a thunderstorm, eyes wide and body shaking. If she was caught there, they would both be expelled.

Murphy bit his lip. _I’m sorry,_ he mouthed to her, now terribly uncomfortable and deeply regretting his decision to bring her there. He peeked between his curtains to see Zabini sitting up in bed with a book. Murphy wanted to flip a table. Why was Zabini staying up _tonight_ of all nights to read? Bloody hell.

Grabbing his wand, Murphy cast several silencing spells on the curtains of his bed, and then he set his wand aside again and sighed.

“I think you’ve got to stay here a little while,” he told Estella at last. “I’m sorry. I thought you would sleep through the night and then I could get you out in the morning before everyone else woke up.”

Estella curled her arms around her torso. “It’s okay, Murphy. It’s my bloody fault all of this happened anyway. You were just trying to help me out because I was feeling sorry for myself and ended up drinking myself into a stupor.” She sighed and pushed back her hair from her face. “I feel like rubbish. And my mouth tastes horrible.”

Murphy reached out of the curtain on the side opposite of Zabini and poked around in his bedside table. After a moment, he happily procured a glass of water and some kind of minty candy. Estella gulped down the water in a heartbeat and then chewed happily on the candy.

“Mm, much better.”

“I always keep a water glass next to the bed,” he explained. “It’s so much trouble to get up and down from bed just for water in the middle of the night.”

“Where are Skye and Orion?”

“I’ve no idea. They ran off. Well, Orion did. Skye was useless. They’re probably somewhere in the castle, arguing like always.”

“Probably,” Estella agreed. “So… I suppose I’m stuck in here for a while.”

Murphy rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah…”

“Why _did_ you bring me here? I mean, really, you could’ve left me in the Common Room. I wouldn’t have been angry.” 

Murphy shrugged bashfully. “Maybe it was silly of me, but based on what I know about our housemates, I calculated there was a 2.8% chance of someone hurting you if I left you alone in there.”

Estella tilted her head and gave him a soft smile. “That’s a very low chance.”

Murphy looked over her face. “Too large a chance in my opinion,” he told her gently.

Estella reached out and unabashedly gripped his hand, her fingers curling in his. Her hand felt wonderfully soft, Murphy noted absently. His own were rather rough, and he resisted the urge to smooth his fingers over hers. He’d never done much hand-holding for obvious reasons, and it was such a simple, delightful feeling, one he had dismissed before as childish. It didn’t feel childish, though, not right now.

“Thank you, Murphy,” Estella murmured. “You did what you could with what you had. I’m grateful.”

She let go of his hand, and Murphy brought his own hands back to his lap. After a brief silence, he peeked between the curtains again and saw Zabini was still reading. He sighed and looked back to Estella. “Zabini might be up for a while, so… if you want, you can go back to sleep, and I’ll stay up and watch him. As soon as he’s asleep, you can sneak out.”

“When will you get to sleep?”

“When my duty is done, fair lady.”

Estella grinned. “You’re such a cheeseball!”

They both snickered.

Estella pulled her long red hair to one shoulder, pensive gaze on the pillows. “I got mascara on them.”

“How do you know that isn’t my mascara?” asked Murphy, shifting to recline against one of the pillows. “That Andre kid will put makeup on anybody.”

Estella giggled and shifted to sit next to him. Murphy felt nerves trickle down his spine, heating up his skin in the process. When she sat shoulder-to-shoulder with him, a curious tingle affected each bit of warm skin she touched, even through the fabric of his pajamas. Together, they sat with their hands in their laps and their legs atop the covers.

“Maybe I _should_ go to sleep,” spoke up Estella after a moment. “Seems like the logical thing to do.”

“I’ll watch over you,” promised Murphy, turning to look at her. Their faces were perilously close. “I promise.”

Estella gave a faint, almost shy nod, and then she started to push back the blankets before stopping. “Oh, I don’t want my shoes in your bed,” she said, before she pulled them off and eased them to the floor where Zabini couldn’t see. Before Murphy knew it, she was also standing on her knees and pulling off her outer robes. Underneath, she wore a plain white shirt (rather fitted, Murphy noted against his will), as well as a pair of soft, cotton knee-length shorts. Murphy had seen her don them for Quidditch practice from time to time. Once that was done, she laid out her robes at the end of the bed and curled under the covers next to him. Murphy reached down and shifted his legs out of her way, and Estella turned on her side in his direction.

“It’s bloody freezing in here. Why isn’t your fireplace going?”

Murphy was glad she was still talking. If she fell silent, he had no idea what he would do. Lose his mind, probably. A sensation he dared not name buzzed heatedly in his lower abdomen.

“Zabini – “ he paused, his voice catching distractedly, “ – ah, Zabini, he says the light bothers him.”

“What a priss.”

“Yes, as far as roommates go, he is rather insufferable.”

Estella curled up close to Murphy’s hip. “When he was talking earlier… about there being a girl in the dormitory – “

Murphy cast his eyes away.

“Murphy, are you… “

He shifted uncomfortably, wishing with his very soul that she hadn’t heard that comment.

“Well, it’s alright if you don’t want to tell me, after all, it’s very personal, but I just wouldn’t want you to feel as though you couldn’t say anything…”

Murphy winced, although he kept his gaze averted from hers.

“Are you … gay?”

Murphy turned slowly to look Estella. “Er, what?”

Estella peered up at him from his pillow. “What Zabini said, about you not having to worry about contraceptive potions and the like. Is that because you fancy blokes?”

Murphy felt a hysterical bubble in his chest. “No, I’m not gay.”

“It’s okay if you are.”

“I know. I appreciate it. But no, I do not fancy blokes.”

“Then why – “

“He just was being a git,” Murphy interrupted softly. “He likes to give me a hard time is all.”

Estella eyed Murphy for a moment, and then she curled closer, tucking her head so near him he could feel her warmth again. “Alright,” she murmured, looking sleepy again. “So long as you know we’re always here for you.”

Murphy let out a small huff like a laugh. “Thank you, Stella.”

She closed her eyes, and Murphy figured she was asleep again. She wasn’t, though. Instead, she shifted and reached out, curling his arm in hers as if it were a stuffed toy. Murphy fluttered his fingers, eyes wide in the semi-darkness of their shadowed area, and he let his hand come to rest over one of hers. Estella’s eyes remained closed, but her lips quirked, and she seemed to relax further against the bed.

After a few moments, Murphy allowed himself to slip down further into the bed, so that he was more lying next to her than before. Estella drew in closer to him, moving lazily and contentedly. When Murphy inclined his head in her direction, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Her hair pressed against his cheek, and they both sank comfortably against the covers.

Thoughtlessly, Murphy dragged his fingers over her knuckles.

“Murphy?” she whispered sleepily.

“Mm?”

“It would be alright if you liked blokes… but I’m glad you don’t.”

Murphy turned his head, and his lips brushed her hair. “Why’s that?” he murmured back.

When Estella spoke, her voice was muffled by his sleeve. “I just am.”

Murphy felt himself grin against his own will. After gathering his courage, he pulled his arm fully around Estella and gathered her against his chest. Estella slipped into the embrace without a moment’s hesitation, and when she resettled, it was with her face tucked into the joint between his torso and his shoulder, and her arm draped across his abdomen. The buzzing in his lower stomach intensified, and there was nothing he could do about it, but Murphy didn’t mind. It was worth it.

“I’ll wake you when you can leave,” he told her very softly.

“If you insist,” was her contented reply.

***


End file.
